


Remember Today, Little Brother

by Ithiliana



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:10:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithiliana/pseuds/Ithiliana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>David is having trouble with a pick-up scene with Sean.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Remember Today, Little Brother

**Author's Note:**

> David is having trouble with a pick-up scene with Sean.

"Cut, that's good, really good," Pete said, bouncing into view. "Let's take a short break before we try again."

David relaxed, letting Faramir go, and sighed. If they'd hit "really good," then he figured they'd need to do at least another half dozen takes before they'd get to what Pete wanted. And this scene was important, worth bringing Sean back from England for. The background on Faramir's family gave one reason for the that had been made in his character. They'd worked with John yesterday for confrontation with Denethor, and now were working on just Boromir and Faramir in the usual cheerful disregard for chronology that was film.

Checking carefully to make sure he could, David perched against one of the columns that littered the "street." It was just…harder than David had expected. Sean had flown in a couple of nights ago, so this was all being done under one of the major time crunches that David had decided was just normal for a project this big. And, well, David wasn't as much into method acting as Viggo was, but he would have liked more time to prepare for this family thing with Sean rather than just leaping into it.

Sean was joking with one of the cameramen and the group of Gondorian soldiers who were milling around them during the scene. David blinked, getting a closer look at one of their faces. He thought so. A week ago, David had seen him in the group getting into Orc makeup to storm Osgiliath. Maybe the whole group had been. If it was hard at times playing one character, David wondered what it would be like to be in a different costume, character, and on a different side every few days. 

"David."

David winced. Pete. He'd known this was coming. 

"Can I talk to you?" 

"Sure," David said, forcing cheerfulness into his voice and following his director off the set. This was not good.

Pete paced alongside him, curly mop of hair going in every direction, hands moving. "I like so much of what you've done with Faramir, but somehow this moment isn't quite  
working. You've done a great job in the scenes with Denethor, and Frodo, showing how he responds to his brother's death, to his father's disdain. But here we have to see the love between the two brothers. It's the only time we see them together, and this one, and the farewell scene, when Boromir leaves for Imladris, well, those two moments are key. And it's not so much the dialogue, you know.." Pete paused, pushing his glasses up.

David nodded. It wasn't. It was the body language, the look in both characters' eyes that would make or break this scene. 

Uncharacteristically, Pete hesitated. "I mean….I know you have brothers, so, well…"

"I understand," David said. "I'll do better."

"Excellent. Take a few minutes and we'll start." 

David thought Pete might have said more but he was being called away to check something on one of the satellite feeds. 

Left alone in a pool of quiet surrounded by chaos, David looked around, took a few moments to disappear around one of the "walls" and sit, just sit, eyes closed. 

He knew what the problem was though he didn't want to tell Pete. Nor could he consult with his fellow actor who seemed to have no problem with the scene whatsoever. David's problem was something nobody could help him with. 

When Sean had appeared, David's immediate response to him was not at all brotherly. David had watched as much of the rushes with Boromir as he could, of course, but his response to the character was different than his response to the actor. 

Faramir did love Boromir, the older brother who'd been so important in his life after their mother died, the hero and golden warrior of Gondor. And David admired the actor's craft that had created so much more complex and, well, human a character compared to the Boromir in the novel.

But Sean. David shifted, blowing his breath out in a long sigh. _He_ was different. Pure sex. Sean's voice, not Boromir's, went straight to David's cock. And then there was his apparent shyness in some public and group situations that David felt sure was just a shield for…something else. Which he thought he saw in how the man moved, light on his feet, flexible, so damn graceful despite his size. 

David told himself everything he was thinking was stupid, considering he'd met the man barely two days ago. Though he had spent almost all his free waking time in his presence covertly watching him.

And every time Faramir got close to Boromir for the fraternal hug that was part of this scene, David found himself tensing up, pulling back. Because the hug didn't feel brotherly. Or in character. And David didn't know if that was him, or Sean, or both of them. Only that he didn't know what to do about it.

And that was driving him crazy. So every take, he was wound tighter and tighter.

"David! Time!"

David sighed, pushed himself to his feet, and went back to the set. Screw it. The only way he could see through this problem was to pretend that Boromir wasn't his goddamned brother. And see what happened. It's not like it was a long scene. Just a few seconds. Not all that important.

* * * * * * *

David left the studio and started to walk to his car. It was late on a Saturday afternoon, nearly evening. Pete had kept them as long as he could, working through different takes, some different lines, and then talking. And then getting out of costume and makeup and reviewing his lines for tomorrow had taken longer than usual. The building and parking lot were less crowded than usual.

But at least the hug had been solved. Pete was happy. And David. And, he thought, Sean. It had finally worked, and that was what counted, no matter what sort of weird mind games an actor had to do to get there. And nobody had to know about the mind games. They'd just see the two brothers together. If the scene even made it into the film.

"David."

Looking up from the sidewalk, David stopped. 

Sean. Leaning against David's car looking better than anybody had a right to after the day they'd had. Black jeans, leather jacket zipped halfway up. Green eyes on David, not to the side or looking down as often happened in the public meetings and group talks. Hair short, gleaming in the level light from the setting sun.

Leaning against the red car, he looked as if he'd stepped right out of an advertisement for…David firmly suppressed the thought of what he could be advertising. Tried to think of something to say and failed. 

Sean continued leaning, watching David, and also said nothing.

Finally, far too late to sound casual, but David tried, he replied. "Do you need a lift?"

Sean smiled, shook his head.

Since he was leaning against the driver's door, David could hardly get into the car and drive away even if he wanted to. But he was starting to feel stupid standing in the parking lot.

"What then?"

"Some time alone with my little brother, I think," Sean said.

David shook his head and told himself Sean couldn't possibly mean what his voice hinted at. "A bit late for working, isn't it? We don't have any more scenes together, do we?"

Sean's smile widened, joyous, almost a laugh, as he said, "I'm not talking about work. Unless…you want to tell me how you finally got over standing like you had a poker up your arse every time you got within arm's reach of me? The last three takes were….fun." Sean's voice dropped on the last word.

David felt himself turning red. "No," he said shortly. 

Tilting his head, Sean studied him, shifting to lean a bit more comfortably and solidly against David's car. He was obviously in no hurry to leave.

"Want me to tell you what I think?"

David opened his mouth to say no again, but Sean didn't give him a chance to speak.

"I'll tell you. I think that you--"

Sean's voice was pitched to carry, whether he intended it or not, and David was agonizingly aware that the studio door was behind them, that people were going in and out constantly. He stepped forward, hand going out, shaking his head.

"Don't--"

Sean didn't continue with his original sentence and did lower his voice. Slightly.

"So let's go."

"Where?"

"I'm sure we can find a quiet corner inside," Sean said, leaning down and picking up a shopping bag that David had not noticed earlier.

David didn't know if he felt relieved or disappointed that Sean meant to go back in the studio. Shrugging, he followed Sean back into the building. Through hallways, into one of the major set areas, and around a couple of fake walls.

Then stopped, aghast.

"You've got to be kidding."

Sean pulled himself up to sit on what appeared to be a marble table, set the shopping bag down and rummaged in it, then offered David a beer. "Nope. It's quiet, isn't it?"

David rolled his eyes, opening the beer. "Right. Silent even." It was the House of the Stewards' tomb set, the table where Denethor in his despair would try to burn Faramir.

Cautiously, David leaned against the table, sipped his beer. Watched Sean drink his. It wasn't quite a public place, but despite the quiet space around them there were people working, David was sure, tucked away here and there. At all hours. None to be heard or seen at the moment though. 

Sean looked sinfully good in black leather. 

Tilting his head back, Sean finished his beer in several long swallows. David, watching the movements and line of his throat, felt himself hardening. 

Sean dropped the empty in his shopping bag, then slid easily off the table. Stepped closer to David, eyes shifting down, then up as Sean closed in. David, in an angle of the table, could not move. Not that he wanted to.

"The time for drinking is over, little brother," Sean said, hands settling on David's hips. 

Unsteadily, David set his half empty bottle down, pushed it aside, laid his hands on Sean's arms. The leather was smooth, and David closed his hands around Sean's arms, pulled him closer.

_This_ was what he'd finally had to admit he wanted before he could do the scene.

"I thought so," Sean said, one leg nudging between David's. 

David released Sean's arms, slid his hands inside that tantalizingly half open jacket, around and up the broad back, feeling muscles shift under the thin cotton shirt.

Sean slid one hand up David's back, to his neck, pulling his head back, mouth closing on his throat, sucking, teeth teasing at his skin. 

Then it was all heat and confusion, shared urgency to touch and learn as much as possible, taste the salty softness of skin. Attempting to pull Sean's shirt free of his jeans, David found his own shoved up nearly to his shoulders as Sean's tongue circled, his lips closed on a nipple. 

Table pressing against his lower back, David had to tilt his hips forward, pressing against Sean's erection, so Sean could push David's jeans down, run a warm hand down his belly, and hold his cock.

"Hold on," Sean said, leaning forward, reaching out with his other hand to pull the shopping bag forward. 

David, turning to brace himself on his bent arm, watched with bemusement as Sean pulled out a small bottle, clear plastic, pink cap and label.

"Baby oil?"

Sean shrugged, flipping the cap open with his thumb. "Had to get to the nearest store and back before you left. Not exactly a major emporium." He set the bottle down, gently laid his hands on David's shoulders.

David let Sean turn him around, leaned forward over the table, arms folded in front of him, head resting on them. Some small part of his brain was trying to tell him this was not a good idea, but after the last few days, David wasn't listening. 

Feeling cool air against his skin as Sean pushed his jeans further down, David was confused to hear a laugh. 

"What?" David said, trying to stand up.

"Nothing," Sean said, pushing him down, running his hands down David's back, pressing firmly. "Just brothers under the skin, so to speak."

David shrugged, settling back, deciding to figure that out later. 

A slick hand ran down his cleft, a finger pressing in, withdrawing, pressing deeper. 

Leaning forward a bit more, David shifted into a more comfortable position, closing his eyes. Half appreciated Sean's patience, half wanted to tell him to fucking do it. 

Two fingers, opening David more, pleasant stroking building the heat and at any other time, it would have been fine. But this had been building too long.

"Sean…"

"Impatient, little brother?" The laugher under Sean's words robbed them of any offense.

David thrust back, biting his lip. Felt Sean's fingers withdraw. After a pause, felt blunt warmth, slick, and firm, and so right, push in. Slight twinges, muscles tight, relaxing, then pleasure.

Seated deep in David, Sean rolled his hips slightly, forcing sound from David's throat. He could feel the smooth leather and denim against his bare skin, Sean's hands braced to either side of him. After what seemed far too long, slowly, Sean began to move. Slowly, tentatively at the start, as if feeling his way, then faster.

David arched his back, thrusting, pushing Sean out of the first gentleness into something more. Demanded more. Slid his own hand down to rub and squeeze himself, harder, sweat running down his back and legs, needing fast and rough and hard after the last days.

Heard Sean's muttered curse as he shifted, sliding an arm around David's waist, legs pressing closer as his hips jerked, faster, pounding in. Yes.

Need and satisfaction met and built, a sudden spasm releasing both, dropping David into a warm bath of pleasure. Legs loose, David let all his weight rest on the table, held by Sean, feeling the final movements, slowing, warmth. Peace.

Feeling the smooth surface of the table under him, Sean's warmth above, David rested, feeling his heartbeat slow, breathing deeply. Felt Sean shift, withdraw. A final echo of pleasure sounded through David's body.

"This was a good day, little brother." 

David thought a bit smugly that Sean's voice was a bit uneven. Not that David was going to try to say anything just yet. In a minute, he'd see if his legs would work.

"So…do you want to have some dinner?"

Standing, David pulled his jeans up and zipped them before turning around. 

"I don't know," he said. "Will you respect me after?"

Sean snorted. "Probably not."

"Good," David said.


End file.
